At the park where I ran this morning is an open-air, concrete pavilion with several large caged fans mounted at the ceiling, all pointed down to the floor at different angles. I was stopped for a drink of water at a brick building about twenty feet away.
A young dad was standing inside that pavilion, holding his young son up in the air, facing away from him, the dad’s arms wrapped around his little boy’s slender, stiffened legs, chunky sneakers hitting his dad mid-torso. The boy’s arms, also stiff, were glued to his own torso. His blonde head was tilted back, and he was screaming into the fan, at high volume and with lots of gusto:
“III LLLOOOOOVVVEE YYOOOOOOUUUUU DDAAAAADDD!!!”
Over and over again.
Just like we all did to oscillating fans when we were kids. But it was an extra big fan. Extra loud.
So many times.
The dad just held him there, a blonde headed little torch of energy, beaming happiness. The boy screamed I love you dad at least a dozen times while I stood there drinking water and stretching, spying on their private moment in public.
This is what I wanted to tell you today:
Go for a run if you can and love your kids steady and hold them up really strong and love your dad, too.
Over and over again.
XOXOXOXO